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I wanted to write something for girls who care too much, for girls who fear too much n so much more, I wanted to write a space for them, to help free their story, I wanted this space to be for them to reconnect with each other, with themselves, I fear too often for girls who can’t tell the difference between love n loved, those who give away their hearts to boys who are not worthy of their crowns, taint n easily make more then enough room for doubt in the form of black holes, that they attempt to conceal although too clumsy, fall too easily n mistake a knife for a king, watch how their heart whispers heart beats, blur the lines for their body, their mind is no where to be found, consumed by his sugar cane, I fear too much for girls, our girls that are growing up in a world where their body is still something that is up for discussion, that they have to go through life with a man telling them the rights to their own, don’t know that they had, they have a choice, this whole time, I wanted to write this for girls, for queens, for the women who are the gift that helped birth this nation, I wanted to write a space for them, ask all the right questions n allow their stories to be heard, I wanted them to see the love of feminism in all its tints, that this kind of love is an anthem sang for their broken, their hurt, their anger, their tears, despite such uncanny, this anthem is sang for their accidental however always unapologetic happiness.

Once again I’m feeling too much, caring too much, hurting too, been hurting way too much, miscounting all the excuses, not excuses, feelings, miscounting the amount of time I’ve been feeling, something like complicated, like my body is tired, like my mouth doesn’t have anymore left to say, like my mind is thinking too much, overthinking too much, I can’t just do anything anymore without thinking, overthinking, I think its starting to be become a problem, we all have something that we do too much, that it starts to become something we can’t stop noticing, realize, its all just too much, lately, I’ve been doing things I don’t usual do, then regret them even more than the first time, just to see if they were really the wrong thing, but lately it’s been happening too often, I don’t want to do anything that will harm this soul, that will cause it be be this hard, this closed, this silenced, I want to change, I’m starting to think that I should probably get these feelings figured out, I want someone to talk to, someone I can tell these things without feeling like a part of me is saying, what do you think your doing, showing all your insecurities, baring so much to someone, anyone, don’t do this, you’ll regret telling them, even though you can trust them you don’t trust yourself, but I just want someone to listen, someone to tell me its all going to be okay, that this will get better, that there is nothing wrong with the way your thinking, you’ll be okay, I don’t want anyone to tell me how I should feel, how they think it should feel, how they feel, I just want someone to listen, I want them to make a note of it so they can come up with the answers, because I’ve been trying to solve this all on my own, and I can’t help but feel broken, the internal cracks they’ve left are too much to handle, too much to comprehend, its all just too much, I need someone to help me understand this all, I just want someone to talk to, someone who truly understands, acknowledge, that its hard, that I’m trying my best, that I’m worth all the effort, that I can love myself, and be loved back, that love can be reciprocate, that love is something beautiful, that it doesn’t always tare you down, building walls, bridges, barriers, but will make you better, will be emotionally worth the pain, that just because there’s pain I shouldn’t give up, I feel better now, I’m the only one left that I can talk to, I’m trying to fix the me that I think is broken so much, but its been so long, the tools god has given me are failing at my bare hands, I don’t know what to do anymore, I’ve had enough, of feeling like I don’t want to live like this anymore, I’m scared of telling the doctor, because I don’t want them to think that I’m making this up, that its all in my head, that its nothing, but when your feeling this way, nothing makes any sense, so you’ll tell the doctor the truth, that this is your truth, that your not lying, that every time you feel like this nothing else matters, its as though the earth has broken in two, and your the only one left to deal with the wreckage, this is what if feels like, this is your reality, you’ll tell the doctor that you don’t want to be broken anymore, that you want to be fixed, you’ll look at them with your hands in soft fists, take a short breath and say, I’ve got no where else to go, no one left to turn to, you want to get better, so you’ll bite your lip, close you eyes and repeat, please fix me, I want to get better for myself, and open your eyes

I read the most disrespectful statement about my sisters, I just wanna let you black men who forgot your place, don’t know that a black body spilled herself for you, least you forgot the skin you wearing, disrespecting what god took time to perfect, how dare you forgot your place, how dare you disrespect like you don’t know that ain’t nobody but this black skin will always have your back, acting like black man n black woman ain’t the same blessed, ain’t the same sweet menlanin we praise, they praise, don’t you forgot your roots boy, don’t forget who brought you on this earth, don’t you forgot the colour god blessed upon your disrespectful self, talking like you worthy of so much she ain’t gave you, capable of carrying all this that society has given women with melanin bright enough, brave enough, strong enough, beautiful enough for you to act like you own, like you have the right to, how dare you, don’t you know disrespect when it assaults your narrative, never forget it is this skin that you are here, so best you know, before you disrespect yourself

You struck a cord, turn me into love game, turn this jagged into self pity, look at what you’ve done

You play this game too often, I should’ve known it could never be this easy

Its moments like these, that teach girls that this is what they are capable of and it all stops right there, as they hand you themselves, you hand them blood thirsty, teeth, scars, wounds, trailing holes into themselves leaving emotional damage of where their trust in boys, men will mutate

Can’t you see what you’ve done, taking broken and giving it a chance, her taking unworthy giving it a chance, look at this cult of broken hearts, pretty words with empty sounds

You’ll never comprehend, this is where and why us girls learn that our bodies are like diamonds, precious, before we even learn the meaning of our emotional worth

It is why they say do not trust, treat your body like you’re beautiful, you are beautiful, be self less, be blunt dager, be so much conversation, but never forget you are worth every worship, never forget it is them who suffer most when a good thing is gone

Melody Of Being Animate (MBA) 16/09/2014: HE He, who lied to a girl just so he could get into her stay away to heaven, don’t know that this girl is broken, don’t know that this girl finds it hard to trust, … Continue reading →